Laughter is the best Medicine
by ExtremeEly23
Summary: An insight into the sickeningly familial relationship between Ragyo and Nui. Rated M for violence.
1. Chapter 1

"No more?"

The silent scream that seemed to drip from Nui's shaking lips was acknowledged, but ignored.

Ragyo's manicured nails danced softly against Nui's cheek, flicking away a tear in disgust, leaving yet another red welt across her cheek.

"Weak."

Nui's chest heaves at the word, like she's been punched.

Ragyo fiddles with the ornate handle of the blade at Nui's collarbone. Her palm presses downward, and she feels the resistance of muscle and flesh against the dripping red blade.

"How does it feel?"

Her tongue curls over the words, dragging against 'feel' as her palm presses harder against the blade's handle.

Nui feels the blade slide through the flesh of her back and into the table.

She thinks of her pretty pink dress, torn by the blade, stained in red. It was such a nice dress, she had made it to impress Ragyo.

A small giggle bubbled from her throat, rubbed raw with sobs.

It escalated, rising up in her throat like a foul bile; it was poison, choking her with laughter as she opened her mouth and let it ring out across the silent lab, bouncing off the icy steel walls to reverberate in the ears of her…Mother.

Ragyo's face darkens, and she twists the blade, tearing more of the dress around the hilt. This reaction will not be tolerated. Laughter will not be tolerated.

Nui is not numb. She feels everything; she feels her insides being twisted around the knife, she feels as her organs work to repair themselves around the knife, flesh knitting together to engulf Ragyo's implement of torture, making it a part of her body.

Pain cannot describe how it felt. There is no word to describe the agony that Nui felt in that moment, or whilst Ragyo sawed off the hilt of her weapon, leaving the blade inside her; _"A reminder"_, Ragyo called it.

Nui would not forget.

Nui would never forget.


	2. Chapter 2

Obedience was desired, thus obedience would be shown; as it had been, as it always would be.

She tipped her head politely, lowering her parasol to greet Ragyo with a respectful address. She was ignored, passed by without acknowledgement; as to be expected.

Nui existed only as a living experiment, a body of life fibres mysteriously experiencing consciousness, to be treated as such.

She was an experiment, undergoing tests frequently to observe her healing abilities, her pain tolerance; her mental strength.

She was an experiment, and every shred of normal human emotion would be evicted from her body; Ragyo despised such emotional fragility. However, sadness was ugly; Ragyo had not made her face so pretty to be covered with a horrible frown. "_Smile more, Nui", _yes Mother. She smiled gently and sweetly, as was becoming of a lady. Do not be fooled, though, "_you must look like a pretty girl"_. She was not a pretty girl; she was an experiment, a number on a clipboard. Ragyo just wanted her favourite experiment to look nice.

_Favourite; _that word felt good.

She was an experiment, and she was shown no love, no gentleness. Her existence was defined only by fulfilment of her objectives, as assigned by Mother.

She sought approval, if nothing else.

Nui desired no love nor kindness now, just acknowledgement, an appreciation that she had done as instructed, she had been a good girl. She had been a good girl and done as she was told.

"_Sometimes we must discard our petty mortal conscience to do what my must, Nui."_

She received her first accolades when she killed her first man; a small task Ragyo wanted done, a minor industry competitor.

When she obeyed Mother…when she obeyed Ragyo-sama, for it was made clear with another round of "experiments" that Nui was to respect her not as a mother, but as a master, a commander, a god.

The path of destruction and cruelty fell before Nui, and she followed, she chased, she pursued it to the brink of her demise. Every wound she inflicted was a self-made reward, a satisfaction from praise never received. Each blow endured was punishment for weakness.

Relishing destruction and chaos became nature, because with it came attention; with it came a venomous smile from Ragyo-sama when she heard the news. She killed, she tortured, she disembowelled, she existed; she shot, she severed, she decapitated, she existed.

When her duties were neglected, or her jobs done poorly, Ragyo would make sure she understood. Tied to the table of the laboratory once more, Ragyo would not stop until she broke down, until she folded; yet she knew not to cry. She would laugh and smile until her cheeks hurt and the blood in her throat could be discarded discreetly, until her body fell into shock and she was removed with disdain.

Nui Harime was obedient. Nui Harime killed when she was told, '_like a dog'_ she heard executives whisper. She was Ragyo-sama's trained dog, a pet conditioned to kill. She barked on command, she rolled over. '_Good dog' _she was told, she would smile with glee.

She sat; she shook hands, attended meetings, sewed with the threads of revolution.

Nui Harime, the obedient experiment, felt no remorse.

Touching the bump in her chest where a knife blade remained ingrained, Nui struck her current victim with a final blow.

To her, death was obsolete.


End file.
